139
“Okay, you’re pissed because I didn’t tell you. You’re right. I did it without consulting you. But at the time, Emma, you were only my PA, and we could barely talk about this stuff without you storming off and clamping shut,” he says, pleading his case as he strokes back my hair and turns my face to him. He sounds remorseful, but I’m not done being angry about this.
Doesn’t he see how much this hurts me? It’s not what he did, but rather that my biological sperm donor father happily took his money and agreed never to contact me again for the rest of my life. Jake is getting my rage, but it’s my father I’m seething at.
“How much?” I snap, still facing away from him. “How much money did you give him? How much did you flush down the toilet?” I snap, my heart crumbling in agony as it all starts to sink in.
I suspect he would have happily taken a couple of thousand dollars to walk away. He was that pathetic.
What was I worth? Ten thousand at the most? Less? He would have agreed to a meager five hundred when he approached me not so long ago.
“I gave him what I thought was a reasonable amount to stay away. I didn’t give him a chance to ask for an amount; it would have pissed me off more.” He smooths my hair back again, pausing as I shrug him away and only continuing when I am still, persistent in trying to tame me.
“What am I worth then?” I retort, emotion breaking in my voice as pain sears through my chest like a hot spear.
Do I even want to know? Could it be any more humiliating than this?
“I would have given him millions, baby. To me, there’s no limit to your worth. My lawyers gave him $500,000 and made him sign a contract agreeing to stay away indefinitely,” he says, so matter of factly.
I spin around in shock, blanching at him.
“You gave him how much?” I choke as my body turns cold.
That’s half a million dollars! Jake gave that slimy weasel half a million goddamn dollars?
The blood drains from my face.
Why would he do that? Why would he give him so much money? For me?
“I would have given him twenty times that much if he’d refused to go,” he says tenderly, “To me, you’re priceless. There isn’t enough money in the world to make me walk away from you. I hoped he would put up a fight.” He smooths my hair again. I don’t pull away this time, too busy with my eyes glued to his face, my brow creased.
“Jake, that’s so much money.” I am bewildered, shaking my head at his shrug. I can’t get over the shock and the disbelief.
“It’s just money, baby.” Jake turns me in his arms, so I face him fully. Loosely draping his arms around my shoulders with his hands hanging down behind me, he rests his arms out straight on my slender frame.
Only someone with too much money could make a statement like that!
“You didn’t have to; you’re crazy.” I stare down at his abdomen, a place to focus while calming my rambling thoughts. His tanned, naked skin is a good focus point, and I inhale steadily to calm myself.
“Get used to it; I haven’t even shown you half the crazy things I get up to.” I glance up at his humorous tone and shake my head at his smile. As an adrenaline junkie and racing car addict, I’m sure I could guess what he means. I exhale it all away.
“He took the first offer, right?” I ask, swallowing down the pain my question gives me, trying to numb the biting lump of heaviness in my stomach and sniff the watery emotions away, refusing to break over that man.
“Yes, he did! They low-balled what I told them to give him because they figured he would negotiate an amount above that. He didn’t.” He’s angry at the memory. His eyes change to the darkest greens, betraying his rage under his scowl. “He’s lucky he never met me face-to-face.”
I turn away this time, his arms sliding away as my emotions well up from somewhere deep inside, and a tear trickles down my face despite my efforts.
I can’t believe Jake gave him half a million dollars. I wasn’t even his girlfriend; I was only his PA. He did that for me anyway, regardless of everything else we had going on back then. My Carrero. He is so stupidly rich, sometimes, he’s on a different planet from me.
“I’m not really mad at you, Jake,” I sniff. “Well, I am now I know how much money you threw away. I’m mad at him.” Caving as his arms come around me from behind, his face nuzzling my neck, I cry softly. I cover his hands with my own and savor the feeling of him around me. He has no idea how it feels to have someone who’s supposed to love you from birth reject you repeatedly.
My father used me as a way to get money. I always knew he would; I just didn’t think Jake would be the one to give it to him.
“I wish you could see how little that guy deserves even to call you his daughter. He’s scum. He’s nothing. The money was nothing, Dolcezza. It was worth keeping him out of your life and stopping him from causing you more pain. I hated him upsetting you, and he never once got to know anything about you, did he? If he had, then there isn’t anything in the world that could have torn him away from you because you’re amazing. You deserved a real father - someone who would have done anything to be in your life. He’s not that guy, and it’s no reflection on you, Bambina, trust me,” he says calmly, tenderly, breathing against my neck softly.
“Just stop doing things like this without telling me,” I scold, but there’s no anger anymore, only deflation in my voice. Sadness always makes me tired.
“I’m sorry, Bella. It was before you were mine. I did what I thought you needed me to do as your friend. I won’t keep anything from you ever again. I promise.” He kisses my neck, and I close my eyes, relaxing into his touch, softened by how he always knows how to calm me and stop my mind from overanalyzing myself into desperation.
I shift in his arms and fully hug him, savoring his naked skin on my bikini-clad body. Hot, smooth, and strong. Tingles and aches flow through me so easily, taking my mind far from the topic, hurting me, and my insides responding on some primal level.
“Make me laugh. Distract me,” I whisper against him, indicating that I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I don’t want to think about that creep any longer. I bury my face against his chest.
For the last few days, making me laugh is all he’s done. Even over stupid, tiny disagreements, he somehow manages to take it away and get me to smile and laugh. I want that more than ever right now, to remove this heavy knot in my stomach at the realization my father was the scum I always believed him to be, the disappointment I always knew he was.
Moving suddenly, he bends down and picks me up and over his shoulder swiftly, making me squeal. Holding my thighs with a strong arm, he strides to the side of the boat. He opens the railings and jumps into the ocean, taking me with him, sarong and all, even his sunglasses nestled on top of my head.
“I said ‘laugh,’ not ‘drown’!” I cough, grinning and spitting out warm salty water when we resurface. He has his arms around me lightly, treading water so we stay afloat, wiping droplets from his face. Devilish and grinning, his hair is infuriatingly still in place, the boyfriend with the indestructible hair. I really should investigate Carrero grooming products.
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